


waterfalls coming out your mouth

by despenteswhore



Category: Portrait de la jeune fille en feu | Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/F, Neighbours, Phone Sex, Smut, phone sex operator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/despenteswhore/pseuds/despenteswhore
Summary: She had heard talking earlier, but it was all muffled and somewhat quiet. But now, it was louder and… crude.“I want to taste you. God, you taste so good.”or: héloïse's new neighbour has an unconventional job. and she isn't quiet about it.[reuploaded with an extended ending]
Relationships: Héloïse & Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire), Héloïse/Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 114





	waterfalls coming out your mouth

**Author's Note:**

> so i was bribed to repost this. but because i appreciated what i received from the deal so much, it has a new extended ending. here's your end of the deal, grape lover. enjoy.

Héloïse had yet to meet her new neighbour.

She frankly didn’t care that she had a new neighbour; there were new people coming in and out of the building all the time and it was much easier to not bother learning names. Afterall, what’s the point in learning someone’s name when they’ll be gone within six months? And even if they stay longer, chances are that they won’t be interacting.

Neighbours were more of a nuisance than anything else. You say hi a few times and suddenly they think you want to come over for their weird viewing party of some reality television program that was embarrassing and atrocious. Both for the people on the show and those watching it.

Had it not been for the pile of boxes that sat outside of the apartment three days prior, Héloïse wouldn’t even know that someone new had moved in next door. Which was a good sign. She had had neighbours before and they were loud and obnoxious at all hours of the night and it made the blonde absolutely livid. The amount of passive aggressive notes she had left at their door was almost equal to the amount of times she marched her way over and demanded that they quiet down.

It was long past sundown, by the time Héloïse returned to her apartment that night. She had stayed late at work to continue editing an article that was to be released later in the week and it was already dark when she left the office.

That wasn’t saying much, though. It was almost the middle of December and it was dark by 5 o’clock most days.

She was tired from the day and her mind was slightly too scattered to remember to be hungry, so she didn’t bother making dinner. She went about doing boring chores, cleaning up the dishes from the morning and folding the clean laundry that had been sitting in it’s basket all day. 

Finally, she found herself in bed, reading over her article, once again, because she could never quite leave her work in the office. Héloïse was sucked fully and completely into her work and it won’t be until the piece is published that she’ll be able to stop thinking about it. A blessing and a curse to be so fully committed to your job.

It was just past midnight and Héloïse had decided to indulge herself with a glass of wine. It was, unfortunately, the only thing that could get her to put down her work. So, with the glass of wine in one hand and soft bed sheets surrounding her, Héloïse picked up the book that sat on her bedside table and continued from where she last left off. 

By no means was it the most fascinating thing she had ever read, but it wasn’t horrible either. It just seemed to drag on with useless facts and exorbitant detail about the characters’ hair and home and even the way that the sidewalk felt, underfoot.

However, it didn’t take long before she was interrupted. 

She was just finishing her first glass of wine, she was finally loosening up, but then she heard a voice on the other side of the wall and it made her body tense right back up.

She had heard talking earlier, but it was all muffled and somewhat quiet. But now, it was louder and… crude.

_ “I want to taste you. God, you taste so good.” _

Héloïse had to remind herself to loosen the grip on her wine glass before it shattered.

The voice was husky and honeyed. It was so even and honest that Héloïse almost felt like she needed to apologize for hearing such a thing. But just as quickly, she was annoyed at the volume and the fact that she was forced to listen to these sentiments. Even moreso, she was annoyed that that statement sent a sharp heat all the way to her core.

But then it was silent, and Héloïse assumed that the speaker realized that the volume of their voice was… quite loud.

She got up from her bed, still slightly startled from the voice and her head a little bit foggy. She made her way to the kitchen and poured another glass of wine. 

Héloïse was on her way back to her bed, just about to place down her wine glass on the bedside table when she heard the voice again.

_ “Spread your legs for me. Just like that.” _

Héloïse almost dropped the glass.

_ “You’re such a good girl.” _

She took a deep inhale and tried to calm herself down. Calm down both her annoyance and her body’s reaction to such words. 

_ This is fine.  _ Héloïse told herself.  _ You’re just a little bit deprived of human touch, it isn’t a big deal. _

But even that felt a bit like a lie. 

So, she searched through the drawer of her bedside table until she was able to find her headphones and she plugged them in. She tried a podcast, but wasn’t able to focus on a word that was being said and eventually had to switch to playing music louder than she wanted to.

Back in her bed, drinking her second glass of wine and finally starting to relax again, Héloïse decided that maybe it was just a bit of a mistake on the neighbours end. They don’t know quite how thin the walls are, they don’t realize that they’re being loud, something like that. Afterall, Héloïse wasn’t a  _ complete bitch _ . Just easily irritated.

But just as she came to that conclusion, she heard it, again.

_ “You feel so good, you’re so wet for me. Are you always this easy or is it all for me?”  _

Now, completely ignoring the heat pooling in Héloïse’s stomach, she was mad. 

She downed the rest of her wine and was quickly to her feet— a little  _ too  _ quickly, but no one was there to notice her mild stumble. 

She basically stomped her way towards the kitchen, all the way to the drawer that held her pens and papers. She pulled out a little notepad and a black pen.

_ ‘Nobody wants to listen to whatever you’re doing. Quiet down, please.  _

_ -Apartment 434.’ _

And then she tossed the pen back in the drawer, tore the piece of paper out of the notepad, and put the notepad back into the drawer, as well. She folded the paper in half and put on her slippers as she walked to her door. She paused for a moment, debating putting on a sweater to cover up the fact that she was in her pyjamas, but decided against it.

She walked out of her apartment, left the door open, and turned to the door right next to hers. At first Héloïse thought that she would tape the note up on the door, but figured that it might be slightly ruder than what she intended. So she bent down and slid the note under the door. 

She stood there for another second and then knocked on the door, twice, since she wanted the silence as soon as possible.

Héloïse didn’t wait to see if anyone would come to the door, she quickly turned back to her apartment and slipped inside, right after knocking. 

It was late, the wine was beginning to hit her, and she really didn’t have it in her to confront this new neighbour. 

She kicked her slippers off, once inside, and went back to her bedroom. Héloïse turned out the lights, set her alarm, and quickly attempted to fall asleep, before she had to listen to more of her neighbour’s sexual interactions.

Just as she was falling asleep, she heard one final high pitched moan.

* * *

It was the next morning and Héloïse was waking up with the sun, as it filtered through her window.

She laid like that for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before she reached for her phone and turned off her alarm that was set to go off in another five minutes. The alarm was mostly for extreme situations, as Héloïse almost always woke up before it had a chance to sound. 

She slipped out of her bed and went into the kitchen, where she filled a glass with water and stood by the sink to drink it. Once she finished it, she refilled the glass and walked back to her bedroom, where she poured the water over the three plants that lived on her windowsill. The cup was then left next to them.

She went about her morning just like she always did. She did yoga in her living room for thirty or so minutes, and then went to make breakfast. A bowl of oatmeal, some mixed berries, and another glass of water. Then she showered and got changed, tied her hair up in a tight bun and did a minimal amount of makeup. 

Héloïse threw all her papers back into her tote bag, followed by an extra pen, a brand new package of gum, and her wallet. 

She was sliding on her shoes as she noticed the piece of paper that was slipped under her door. 

Up until that moment, she had almost completely forgotten last night’s fiasco with her new neighbour.

She picked it up and immediately noticed that it was the same piece of paper that she had slid under her neighbour’s door, as her message was still scrawled across it. But now, on the backside of the note, in big letters, was written:

_ ‘Sorry! -436.’ _

Héloïse rolled her eyes slightly and silently prayed that that would be the end of it. She crumpled up the paper and threw it in the bin before she left her apartment.

Her commute to work wasn’t long, just a bit over half an hour by train. It gave Héloïse plenty of time to read over her articles, brainstorm new articles— though every time she came up with something, it would eventually be scrapped in order to work on something new. Some days she tried to read books while on the train, so as to not entirely rot her brain with work, or just tire herself out before she’s even arrived. 

However, today was different. 

The minute she sat down on the train, her mind drifted back to the night before. To the words of her neighbour, which she felt guilty and ashamed to have heard. But she couldn’t help it, and now she couldn’t help the fact that her mind was floating back to it. That she felt almost overtaken by the voice of a total stranger.

Though she couldn’t remember it, Héloïse was nearly certain that she dreamed about that stranger and the things that were being said. 

Maybe she did need a break from work and a trip to the bar.  _ Maybe. _

* * *

The work day was, unfortunately, similar to the train ride. 

She couldn’t shake all those statements from her head, the entire day. Héloïse would be rewriting bits of her article when all of the sudden her mind would launch back to that high pitched, almost squeaky moan. The luscious voice that filled her bedroom, even though it was on the other side of the wall. The almost tragic fact that Héloïse wished someone was speaking to her like that.

Even her lunch break was preoccupied with inappropriate thoughts. How odd it was to sit in the break room and think about spreading your legs for someone, all while you’re just trying to enjoy a bowl of soup.

And that was enough to make the decision clear. She was going to the bar after work. Even if for nothing more than a few drinks and a change of scenery.

* * *

Héloïse wasn’t one to get wasted. She never had been, something about being too uptight and not trusting her company enough always led her to stopping before she got out of hand. Which, for the most part, was actually a good thing. 

As she made her way back to her apartment she was bubbly and a little hazy, but nothing more than she could handle. 

It was a long day of work and a fun night of drinking cheap wine and the odd shot of various hard liquors, which Héloïse knew would ruin her body the next day, but oh well. That was a problem for the next day.

She kicked off her shoes and tossed her jacket onto the kitchen counter and went off to brush her teeth and put on her pyjamas. She was light on her feet and felt as though she was floating on a cloud.

When Héloïse finally slipped into bed, she had a cheeky grin on her face. She had just finished chugging a glass of water, in an almost sad attempt to avoid the hangover that she would definitely have the next day.

She thankfully had just finished drinking when she heard it.

_ “Yes, right there. Oh, God, yes. Please.” _

Héloïse audibly groaned. 

_ “You fuck me so good, oh fuck, harder. Harder, please harder.” _

_ It can’t be that good. _ Héloïse thought to herself. There was absolutely no noise besides her neighbour’s voice, so if this “companion” was listening to her neighbour at all, they didn’t know what the concept of harder was. 

And then Héloïse was wondering why she let herself start debating the sex life of this neighbour and how good or bad it is.  _ It’s more active than yours. _ And with that, Héloïse groaned again.

She laid down and tried to fall asleep, but the voice was louder than it was the night before.

Several obnoxious moans and a few grunts, followed by what sounded like a strangled yell.  _ “I’m gonna cum, fuck, more, yes, yes, please, more, I’m so close.”  _ Somehow the moaning got even louder, which Héloïse didn’t think was possible. 

She was up on her feet before she knew it, and slid on her fuzzy slippers as she left the apartment. 

She immediately turned to the door next to her own and banged on it, harder than she realized she did. She crossed her arms over her chest and her frown was extremely apparent. 

No one came to the door, so Héloïse knocked again.

Another thirty seconds passed and Héloïse was rocking from one foot to the other, completely impatient. 

Then, the door swung open and on the other side stood a brunette woman of the same height. She seemed almost dainty, though, in a way that Héloïse wasn’t able to explain. Her eyes were soft, but it was clear that she was bewildered. Her hair was tied up loosely, she wore a light green sweatshirt and a pair of small, grey pyjama shorts. 

Héloïse watched as the woman’s eyes travelled up and down her own body, and only in that moment did Héloïse become reminded that she did not put on pants before leaving. So, she was now meeting her neighbour for the first time, mildly drunk, very angry, in her underwear, and without a bra.  _ Great. _

“Can I help you?” her neighbour spoke.

She didn’t realize that she was standing there, completely in her thoughts, until that voice brought her out of her drunken stupor. 

“You’re loud.” Was all that left Héloïse’s mouth at first. Her neighbour slowly nodded, a slightly confused look on her face, which made Héloïse continue. “Thin walls. I can hear everything.” Another pause. “Your shitty sex.”

That seemed to set off something in her neighbour’s mind, as her eyes lit up and grew a little wide.

“Right. Sorry about that.”

“Just… be quiet. Some of us have to work in the morning.” Héloïse said slowly.

She watched her neighbour nod and then she turned to walk away. 

“I’m Marianne, by the way.” The neighbour called as she was turning to leave. “Nice to meet you.”

Héloïse nodded as she slipped into her apartment, but she didn’t respond.

* * *

The next night was silent, which Héloïse adored. The next few nights were, as well. And then Héloïse had spent half a week at her mother’s where she was surrounded by silence. 

Her first night back, though, was not quiet.

Marianne’s voice was loud and obnoxious, it filled the room with moans and curse words and sexual comments. It was different than the previous two times, it was somehow even more submissive and passive. It was purely compliments for the other person, almost purs for (what Héloïse had come to believe was) a person on the other end of the phone.

And it was annoying. Very annoying to listen to. That’s all it was, nothing else.

But that night was different. As Héloïse laid in her bed, trying to read from a somewhat shitty novel, there was a long pause in her neighbour’s antics. Not long enough, though, because it eventually came back.

_ “Have you missed me?” _ The voice was warm and seductive and caused heat to run up Héloïse’s neck.

She closed her book and tossed it down next to her on the bed before running her hands over her eyes.

_ “I want you to pretend it’s me touching you. You’ll do what I say, right? I know you’ll be a good girl for me.” _

Héloïse hated herself for hearing that, but she hated herself even more for being turned on by it. Both because she was ashamed to be as easy as she was and because, morally, it felt horrendous to be listening in on your neighbour, like a creepy peeping Tom.

_ “I want you to touch your breasts. Rub them, squeeze them.”  _

Before Héloïse knew what she was even doing, she had a hand crawling under her shirt and beginning to fondle her breast. It made her inhale, hard, and she shifted lower into her bed.

_ “So good, you’re so good. Play with your nipples, baby.” _

And so she did. She took her nipple into her fingers and rolled it gently. She let a moan leave her lips, and she continued to massage her breast. 

_ “Oh, you want more? You’re so needy, darling, so needy. So impatient. If I were there, you know I’d make you wait for it.”  _

Héloïse had to bite her lip. 

_ “Move your hand lower. Yes, take your pants off. I want you completely naked.” _

She wondered if she should search for her headphones and try to block it out. Or if she should just accept that she’s already become enough of a creep in that moment that she didn’t care enough to stop now and pursue a moral high ground. 

Héloïse supposed that she could add voyeurism to the list of things she enjoyed.

She slipped her panties down her thighs and past her ankles and tossed them to the floor. She then slid her hand between her thighs and gasped slightly at her own touch, followed by another moan. 

_ “Are you wet for me? Oh, I know you are. Of course you are.” _

And she was. Héloïse’s finger was instantly slick as she ran it between her folds. She hadn’t been this turned on in a while and it was quickly and completely overwhelming her. 

Héloïse didn’t touch herself often and it had been quite some time since she had last had sex with someone, so this was probably more overwhelming than it should be.

_ You shouldn’t be turned on at all _ , she tries to remind herself.  _ You should stop what you’re doing _ . 

She moved her hand up from between her thighs and groaned. She then sat up in her bed, pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side, and then stood. She headed in the direction of her bathroom, deciding that a cold shower is the only thing that’s going to help.

_ “Rub your clit, baby. Pretend it’s my hand that’s touching you.” _

And that’s the last thing she heard as she left the room.

* * *

Héloïse was sitting in a tiny coffee shop, scrolling through emails on her laptop and drinking a coffee that was barely hot, anymore. It was her lunch break and she knew that she should stop working through her lunch breaks because it defeated the purpose of a  _ break _ , but she couldn’t help it. 

She was in the middle of typing up a reply when a familiar voice filled her ears.

“Hey, funny seeing you here.”

Héloïse wanted to die. She was instantly mortified and annoyed and knew that she was turning red.

“Hello.” She said, stiffly, as she looked up to see Marianne standing there. 

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” Marianne asked and motioned to the empty seat across from Héloïse. But before Héloïse had a chance to say that  _ yes, _ she did mind, Marianne had sat down.

Héloïse sighed and looked back at her email.

“So…” Marianne started, causing Héloïse to sigh, again. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Héloïse looked up with a furrowed brow and tilted her head, like a cartoonishly confused dog. 

“You mean I have to listen to your phone sex every night.” Héloïse responded stubbornly.

“Well… yes. Sorry about that. Is it seriously not any quieter? I thought I was being quieter. I guess I get very in the moment, I’m quite the actress.” Marianne paused and looked at the cup in her hands and then quickly back up at Héloïse. “Oh, God. It’s all an act, by the way. None of that is… real. Christ, you must think I have a weird sex life. Well, I guess I do technically.”

Héloïse just watched as she ranted, her confused look not fading at all. 

“Right.” Marianne continued, but then she hushed her voice. “I’m a phone sex operator.” 

Héloïse wanted to laugh. It was so obscure and odd and not at all what she was expecting to hear about on her lunch break. 

Marianne’s voice returned to it’s normal, slightly too loud, tone. “But yeah, that’s why you hear… all of that nonsense. Well, most of it is nonsense, some of it is good, you have to admit.”

And Héloïse raised an eyebrow.

“Anyway… Your name is...?” 

And it wasn’t until that moment that Héloïse realized that this neighbour knew absolutely nothing about her—  _ apart from that fact that she was a mild bitch _ , despite Héloïse knowing  _ too _ much about her.

“Héloïse,” she stated simply and reached out her hand, across the table. 

“It’s nice to meet you, again, Héloïse.” Marianne said as they shook hands.

“You as well.” The blonde mumbled, not certain that she meant it.

Then, Marianne was picking up her tote bag and her coffee cup. 

“I need to be on my way, lots of stuff to do.” And once she was standing, she leaned closer to Héloïse and hushed her voice again. “By the way, the walls are thin on your end, too.”

And then she turned and left, not even waiting for a reaction from Héloïse.

Héloïse knew that she had gone completely red.

* * *

When Héloïse returned home from work that day, there was a note slid under her door. She was frustrated before she even picked it up, she knew that no matter what it was, it wouldn’t be good news.

She pulled off her boots and pushed them up against the wall and then hung her jacket up in the closet before turning back around to pick up the mystery note.

It was a pink paper that had little cartoon cats on it, which seemed so remedial that Héloïse considered laughing. But then she read it and felt like she swallowed a rock.

_ ‘Dinner tomorrow? 6:30. Apartment 436.’ _

She honestly didn’t know what it meant or why she was being invited over. Afterall, she was nearly certain that she didn’t like Marianne and by now it was likely that Marianne hated her. Or, maybe not if she’s being invited over. Unless it’s an elaborate plan to drown her in the bathtub. Probably not, though.

Héloïse didn’t write up a response, she wasn’t entirely certain if she wanted to say yes or no, and she went off to make dinner and get ready for bed.

* * *

The next morning, Héloïse slipped a note under the door of apartment 436.

_ ‘See you tonight.’ _

* * *

Héloïse wasn’t entirely certain what she should be wearing to Marianne’s apartment, that evening. 

She didn’t want to dress overly casual, but she also didn’t want to dress excessively nice. Formal was far too serious for what is likely supposed to be a ‘nice neighbourly bonding dinner.’ 

It didn’t take long for Héloïse to give up and decide that she would just wear what she wore to work that day. Grey slacks, a light blue button up shirt, a brown belt, and brown loafers. A watch and a necklace that her sister had given her a few years ago as her only accessories. 

She knocked at Marianne’s door and no one came to the door for an entire minute. Héloïse considered turning and going back to her apartment, that she had imagined the entire thing, but then the door swung open to a flustered looking Marianne.

“You’re early.” She said. Her hair was tied up like it was the first time they had met, but this time she was wearing a pair of black jeans and an oddly patterned button up t-shirt. Before she could dedicate some time to trying to determine what was on Marianne’s shirt, she was looking at her watch.

“No,” she responded. “It’s 6:31. I’m actually late.”

Marianne let out a slight laugh and slowly nodded. “Right, my bad. You’re very late.”

Héloïse nodded and they both stood there for a moment. “May I come in?” 

“Yes, yes, come in.” Marianne said frantically and stepped backwards to make space for the blonde to enter the apartment. 

She stepped inside and took off her shoes, feeling mildly wasteful for even putting them on, just to take three steps to arrive at Marianne’s apartment and immediately take them off again.

“Dinner will be done in another few minutes. I’m not great at the whole time management thing!” Marianne called as she went back into the kitchen. “Red or white?” 

Héloïse started to follow Marianne in the direction she went and she just observed the kitchen before deciding to weigh in on what to drink.

“Oh, God, do you not drink? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. Is it like… a mormon thing or something?”

“I do drink. White is good.” Héloïse replied, her brow slightly furrowed but a small grin appeared on her lips. She wanted to question the mormon comment, but decided against it.

“I knew it. You smelt like liquor the night we met.” Héloïse didn’t know whether to laugh or frown.

“Sorry about that,” she settled on, not certain how else to respond to Marianne, though she wasn’t entirely sorry for it.

“No, it’s perfectly fine. I’d be annoyed, too. It isn’t every day that you have to listen to your neighbour guide someone through phone sex.” She paused, both in her sentence and what she was doing. She turned back around from filling wine glasses and looked at Héloïse. “Well, for you it is, I guess. Maybe I should be the one apologizing.” 

Before Héloïse could even respond, Marianne was moving with the now full wine glasses towards the living space. There was a lowset table, a television sitting atop a television stand… and nothing else. 

“I don’t have a couch yet. I hope that’s fine. I figured we could just sit on the floor, like… Something. I can’t think of what—  _ oh! _ Japanese style. Like in those restaurants where the table is very low and you sit on the floor? Have you been?”

“No, I don’t travel much.” Héloïse told her. “Too busy with work.”

“Work… always fun.” Marianne responded sarcastically. 

“I actually enjoy my job.” Héloïse said in a matter of fact tone.

“What is it that you do?” Marianne asked as she placed down the wine glasses on either side of the table.

“I’m a journalist. Write articles about whatever I’m told, most of the time. Sometimes I get to do whatever I want, as long as it’s been preapproved.”

“Exhilarating.” Marianne responded and Héloïse could swear she saw a sparkle in her eyes. 

“It actually is very interesting. They say the print industry is dying, which maybe it is, but journalism isn’t. More people than ever are reading now that everything’s online.” 

“Is that just because there are more people than ever, though?” Marianne countered.

“Well, no I don’t think so. Sure, that might be part of it. But now information is freer than ever before. You can know everything happening everywhere in the world, within a minute.”

“What about all those sites you have to subscribe to read the articles though? Every time I attempt to read any news, I have to pay.”

“We have to make money somehow. If the news agencies aren’t making money, neither am I. And then I’m homeless and starving and someone who’s making money will write an article about it, and then I’ll die. And people won’t care, just like they didn’t care about any of the other homeless people.” 

“Right.” Marianne said with a nod. “So, I should pay for my news so that you can keep writing about different people being homeless and dying.”

Héloïse opened her mouth to respond, but there was nothing to be said to that. It was true, even if Héloïse didn’t like it being true. “Fair enough.”

Marianne smiled and picked up her wine glass, taking a sip. Héloïse did the same, sans smile.

They stayed like that in silence, sipping their wine. After a minute, Marianne sat down and Héloïse followed suit. They continued to silently drink their wine and the air slowly became awkward. 

That was, until Marianne suddenly launched up from where she was seated. “Oh God,” was all that left her lips. Héloïse watched, confused, as Marianne rushed towards the kitchen and pulled the oven door open and smoke started to drift out. 

Then, Héloïse was on her feet as well, rushing to open a window, and then moving in the opposite direction and propping open the door to the apartment. 

She moved into the kitchen where she watched Marianne fanning the oven with a tea towel. She immediately noticed the drawer that held the towels and picked one up herself to aid in the fanning.

“I’m  _ so  _ sorry. I’m not a cook, really bad at it actually. Turns out even worse than I thought. Also, it turns out that you can’t just speed up the cooking time by increasing the heat.” Marianne’s words always left her mouth so quickly, as if her mind was racing in every moment and it made Héloïse want to laugh.

“It’s okay.” Héloïse told her as she continued to fan with the towel. “Just… try not to burn down the building. I have things I like next door.”

That earned a laugh from Marianne.

And then Héloïse looked at the stovetop and saw a sheet pan of charred… something. So severely burnt that there was no way of telling what it once was. Which made Héloïse laugh. 

The two women laughed for a few moments, and once their laughter and fanning slowed down, Héloïse spoke.

“Do you want to come to my apartment and we can order Chinese food? I have a couch.” Héloïse offered with a shrug. “And my apartment doesn’t reek of smoke.”

Marianne laughed and nodded. “I’ll bring the wine.”

* * *

They were mostly done with their meal, laughing at some story that Marianne was telling about the early nights of her job.

“No, I’m serious. Foot fetish. First night. I almost quit right there, like, I didn’t know what to tell someone who’s in love with  _ feet _ !”

Héloïse was laughing harder than she had in a while and she was holding herself back from cackling. 

“Well?” She asked between her laughter.

“Well what?” Marianne looked at her wide eyed and confused.

“What did you tell him?” 

Marianne groaned and Héloïse laughed even harder.

“I don’t want to remember! Some bullshit about how I’d love to have his mouth on my toes.” She faked a shiver and Héloïse pretended to gag. “It is not the most glorious job, that’s for sure. Mostly creeps, but some of them are cool. The women are mostly good. Lonely and a little off-beat, but good.”

“I can’t say I’m jealous of you.” Héloïse told her.

“Wouldn’t ask you to be, honey, I really wouldn’t.”

And the pair laughed again. Then, their eyes caught and the laughter faded. They watched each other for what felt like an hour, but was merely seconds. 

“I should get out of your way.” Marianne said, as she shifted to stand up. 

“You don’t need to,” Héloïse protested, not quite wanting Marianne to leave. Something she didn’t want to admit, but she might if asked.

“I should, I should.” Marianne finally stood. “It was really nice having dinner with you. Thanks for having me over.”

Héloïse stood as well and she smiled, softly. “Yeah, anytime.”

She walked Marianne to the door and the two stood there, awkwardly, for a minute. 

“Maybe next time we can actually eat at your apartment. But just order takeaway, please.” Héloïse’s comment made Marianne laugh and look at her feet as she nodded. 

“Yes, right, I’ll never try cooking again.” Marianne turned to leave and Héloïse stepped outside of her apartment with her, and watched as Marianne unlocked her apartment. 

“It’s nice to know you aren’t a total bitch.” Marianne told her with a bit of a laugh. It made Héloïse laugh and shrug. She deserved it.

“It’s nice to know you can do things other than moan into a phone. Not that you can cook, though.” At that, Marianne let out a cackle of a laugh, which made Héloïse giggle. 

“Goodnight, Héloïse.” The brunette said and slipped into her apartment.

“Goodnight.”

* * *

An hour and a half later, Héloïse was sitting up in her bed, reading her book. She was struggling to focus, though, and soon gave up. 

Then, she decided to try something. 

She knocked on the wall that she shared with Marianne. She waited for a few moments, but received nothing back. She tried once more, figuring that she either attempted to speak through the wall, or just go to bed.

Surprisingly, the knock was repeated. Héloïse couldn’t help the tiny smile that graced her lips.

She knocked again and Marianne repeated it. 

“Hey!” Héloïse called through the wall. 

“Hi, neighbour.” She could hear Marianne’s laugh. It made her smile grow even bigger.

“How’s your evening?”

“I’m reading very important articles about homeless people and death. That I paid for, might I add.” Marianne’s voice called in a teasing tone. “How about you?”

“Giving up on reading one of the most boring books ever.” Héloïse responded. When a silence fell between them, she spoke up again. “I think I stole your wine glasses.”

“Well you better return them, you know I’m low on dishes, furniture… everything.” 

Against her better judgement, Héloïse was suddenly up on her feet. She grabbed the dirty wine glasses that sat in her kitchen and put her slippers on before leaving her apartment. She immediately knocked on Marianne’s door, and kept knocking until the woman opened it. 

“I definitely did not mean immediately.” She was wearing a dark grey t-shirt that was several sizes too big and Héloïse couldn’t tell if she had shorts on under it. 

Marianne seemed to be glancing at what Héloïse was wearing, as well, and grinned at the fluffy pink slippers that matched her pink pyjamas.

“You look adorable.” Marianne told her.

Héloïse’s brain wasn’t working anymore. She was just standing there and watching Marianne. Glancing at her lips and watching Marianne glance at hers. 

Marianne grinned and shook her head before she gently grabbed Héloïse by the front of her shirt and pulled her into the apartment. “Come in,”

The minute she was inside, Marianne took the cups from her hand and put them in the kitchen. By the time she turned back around, Héloïse was gripping either side of her face and kissing her hard.

Marianne’s hands were quickly in Héloïse’s hair and her tongue ran across Héloïse’s bottom lip, asking for more. Which Héloïse happily gave.

They were stumbling back to Marianne’s bedroom and falling into her bed. A minute of heavy kisses passed before Marianne stopped them for a moment. 

“You’re not drunk, are you?” She asked with her brow slightly furrowed.

“No, no.” Héloïse responded. “Are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to…?”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, me too.”

And then Héloïse’s hands were under Marianne’s top and pulling it upwards. The pair sat up just long enough to pull off Marianne’s shirt, which made Héloïse’s brain short circuit. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath and Héloïse was completely overtaken by the sight of the woman’s breasts. Perky and plump in all the right ways and the blonde was oddly nervous to touch them. 

Marianne grabbed at Héloïse’s top, beginning to undo buttons. 

“Who the fuck wears pyjamas like this? It’s not the 1900s. You’re like a Victorian orphan, or something.” Héloïse let out a laugh at Marianne’s comment, thrown off by how obscure it was, and began helping her undo the buttons.

Once the top was off, they were falling back onto the bed, Héloïse atop Marianne. They kissed until they couldn’t stand not touching one another more. 

Héloïse moved to kiss Marianne’s neck, being careful not to leave any sort of mark, and slowly moving lower. 

She kissed at her collarbone, completely overwhelmed by Marianne’s moans and uncertain if she would be able to keep going. 

“Promise me you won’t do any of the fake phone sex shit.” Héloïse stopped to say. 

It made Marianne laugh and push Héloïse’s head back down to her chest. “Yes, I promise I won’t.”

Héloïse kissed each of Marianne’s breasts, eventually focusing on the right breast and sucking her nipple into her mouth. It elicited a moan from her lips which Héloïse loved hearing. It was like honey for her soul and she couldn’t get enough.

She moved to use her right hand to massage Marianne’s left breast as she continued to kiss her right breast. She rolled Marianne’s left nipple between her fingers as she moved her kisses lower on the woman’s breast. Eventually, she shifted past her breast and down her stomach. 

It had turned out that Marianne wasn’t wearing shorts underneath that massive t-shirt, so she was already in her underwear.

Héloïse kissed at the waistband of it and ignored Marianne’s little begs to be touched. 

She kissed atop the underwear, against her pubic bone. Against her clit and then against her entrance. She listened to Marianne’s whines and marvelled at her.

Her body, her sounds, her smell. Héloïse was completely consumed by her and so utterly charmed that she couldn’t believe she ever hated her.

Héloïse kissed the inside of Marianne’s thigh, which drove Marianne mad. She begged Héloïse to take off her underwear, to touch her, to fuck her. Héloïse listened and adored each moment of it.

Eventually she gave in, and motioned for Marianne to lift her hips. Héloïse took each end of the waistband and began pulling them down Marianne’s thighs and she sat up to pull them completely down and past her ankles. Héloïse held onto the underwear for a few seconds longer than she needed to, and Marianne was quick to interrupt her. 

“What, keeping them as a prize?”

It made Héloïse’s cheeks flush, immediately. She tossed the panties onto the floor and lowered herself back down, between Marianne’s thighs. 

She kissed up her thigh and when she finally reached Marianne’s centre, she ran her tongue between her folds, causing a sudden and strangled gasp to leave Marianne’s mouth, and her hand to launch into Héloïse’s hair. 

She tasted like morning air and honey, and just musky enough that Héloïse was sure she had just found her new favourite taste.

She slowly ran her tongue between the woman’s folds once more before sucking her clit into her mouth. 

The gasp that Marianne let out was so intoxicating that Héloïse wondered if she needed to tell Marianne that she  _ now  _ might be drunk. Drunk on the taste, smell, and sounds of Marianne.

Héloïse moved her mouth from Marianne, and slowly slid a finger inside the woman. She was tight and warm and soft beyond comparison. She slowly began to thrust her finger in and out of the woman before adding a second, causing Marianne to moan again.

She continued this for another few minutes, getting the woman used to it, before she moved towards her again, and started to draw circles against Marianne’s clit. 

The fingers in her hair tightened and Héloïse slowed her motions for only a second before picking up speed.

“Harder,” Marianne moaned out, and it felt like a blessing to her that that sentiment was directed towards her. Héloïse was happy to oblige. 

She began to thrust her fingers into Marianne harder and faster than she had before. Almost constantly were moans leaving Marianne’s lips, and as Héloïse increased her speed, it just got more intense.

Héloïse could tell that Marianne was getting closer and closer to finishing by the way her grip on Héloïse’s head was tightening, and Héloïse quickly decided against delaying Marianne’s gratification.

So, with another couple of thrusts and a final curl of her fingers, Marianne was cumming around Héloïse’s fingers. Her gasps filled the room, along with her panting and Héloïse continued to rub circles against her clit, though slower, to gently bring her down.

Her breathing slowly started to even out, though her body would still twitch, periodically. When Marianne’s breaths returned to normal, Héloïse slipped her fingers out of the woman, which elicited another gasp. 

Héloïse watched her with adoration in her eyes, still not quite comprehending how she got lucky enough to spend the night between Marianne’s legs. The smell, the taste, the essence of Marianne were all endlessly intoxicating.

And when she removed herself from between the woman’s legs and slowly traveled up her body, laying kisses at every inch, she became light-headed. On the odd occasion, she’d change from kisses to little nips at Marianne’s skin, which made her breath hitch.

When she reached her breasts, Héloïse felt a wave of heat rush throughout her body. She felt young and naïve all at once, completely mesmerized by this aspect of Marianne’s body. She looked up towards Marianne’s face for a moment, to witness her grinning back at Héloïse. Entertained by her lust and her admiration.

Just as she was about to lean forward and take Marianne’s nipple into her mouth, she heard her speak.

“Come,” and Marianne’s voice was so gentle, so soft and tender in a way that Héloïse had never heard, that it sent a chill down her spine. 

She was quick to lay a final kiss against Marianne’s collar before moving so that she was directly atop Marianne and they were face to face. They watched each other for a second and Héloïse watched as Marianne’s eyes darted between her own and her lips. 

It was enchanting and exhilarating to watch Marianne in this state, seemingly caught off-guard or just so blissfully melted away that all her loud and rambunctious attitude was gone. The Marianne that rambled off endless sentences was gone and instead was this silent Marianne who just watched her with doey eyes and slightly pursed lips.

They watched each other for another few seconds before Marianne moved. 

She gently grabbed Héloïse’s wrist, slowly and softly and giving the woman plenty of time to pull away if she desired. But Héloïse didn’t, she couldn’t. She was far too intoxicated from the taste of Marianne to resist her, even if she wanted to. But she didn’t want to, anyway. She would never want to.

Marianne pulled Héloïse’s hand upwards and into the space between both of their faces. Both of their eyes glanced to Héloïse’s hand, her fingers that were covered in Marianne’s cum, and then back to each other.

Marianne looked back to the blonde’s hand and folded Héloïse’s pinky and ring finger down before returning her gaze to Héloïse.

She pulled Héloïse’s hand closer and opened her mouth, taking the two fingers and sucking them gently. Marianne’s warm tongue sliding against her fingers, running along the divot between the two. She held her grip on Héloïse’s wrist and slowly moved her hand backwards, until only everything below the knuckle remained in her mouth. Her tongue danced across the tips of Héloïse’s fingers before she applied pressure and spread her fingers with her tongue and slid the entire length of them back into her mouth. 

Héloïse felt her stomach drop and she had to fight to keep her eyes open, to watch Marianne sucking her own cum off of Héloïse’s fingers. 

She watched as Marianne continued to suck at her fingers, sliding them in and out of her mouth one last time before they were fully removed. Héloïse immediately yearned for the feeling of her finger tips against Marianne’s lips.

Her mouth was slightly agape and when her fingers completely left Marianne’s mouth, she was frozen in her place. 

Marianne let out a slight chuckle as she watched Héloïse’s dumbfounded face.

“You’re so sweet,” Marianne whispered as she snaked her spare hand up Héloïse’s back and into the hair at the base of her neck. She softly scratched at Héloïse’s scalp while her lazy smile stayed focused on Héloïse’s face. She pulled Héloïse’s hand back towards her face, but tilted it this time and simply kissed her knuckles.

Héloïse leaned forward and connected their lips. 

They didn’t rush, everything had turned extremely slow after the speed at which they moved earlier. As if they were now floating through space, no longer burdened by time constraints and desperate needs to feel one another’s flesh.

They kissed slowly, and Marianne’s hand descended from Héloïse’s hair. It soon slipped down to her lower back, touching the soft skin that ran against her spine. Her other hand moved up between their bodies and hesitated above Héloïse’s breast before touching. Héloïse moaned into her lips as Marianne began to massage her breast, only encouraging Marianne to continue. 

She shifted, again, and when her thumb grazed Héloïse’s nipple, the woman tensed and Marianne immediately pulled herself back.

Héloïse looked a little startled and Marianne’s brow was full of concern, but Héloïse leaned forward and kissed her again, pulling back only slightly to whisper.

“Please, keep going.”

Marianne nodded and kissed her. 

She rolled the woman’s nipple between her thumb and her index finger and waited a moment before pinching it, slightly, and waiting for Héloïse’s reaction. A small whimper left her, which only encouraged Marianne further.

She played with Héloïse’s breast until she grew impatient and it was clear that Héloïse was, as well. But when her hand shifted, Héloïse couldn’t prevent herself from whining. 

Marianne shifted, indicating to Héloïse her desire to change the position that they were in and Héloïse allowed herself to be flipped onto her back with Marianne now hovering over her.

Héloïse’s eyes observed her and waited for any form of movement. When Marianne did move, she didn’t lean forward to kiss Héloïse. Instead, she moved straight to the woman’s collarbone and kissed and nipped at it.

“Please don’t leave a mark.” Héloïse mumbled, causing Marianne to separate her lips from Héloïse’s collarbone and to look back up at the woman underneath her.

“None?” Marianne teased. “What if I say pretty please?”

“I have work.” Héloïse groaned in response.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.” Marianne muttered into her clavicle.

Héloïse didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure what to say, so instead she just sighed and accepted whatever Marianne decided to give her.

Soon, there were lips against her breast and Marianne sucked the soft flesh around her nipple, everywhere but the place that Héloïse wanted most. And just when Héloïse thought that Marianne would finally turn her attention to her nipple, the woman pulled away. 

Marianne tapped her left hip. 

“Lift,” she said.

Héloïse obeyed.

Marianne slid her fingers into the waistband of Héloïse’s pants and underwear, all at once, and began to pull both downwards. Once to her knees, Marianne shifted out from between Héloïse’s legs and allowed the blonde to finish taking them off.

Marianne crawled up the empty space of the bed until she reached the top, where she sat with her back against the headboard, next to Héloïse.

She was quick to finish pulling her pants and underwear, off though, and returning to Marianne’s warmth. It was odd to be exploring someone and yet so utterly comfortable with them, but Héloïse didn’t question it. She enjoyed it and she didn’t want to be critical about that.

But it was still obvious that Héloïse wasn’t nearly as confident as Marianne was. She was more hesitant in her movements and needed Marianne’s encouragement. 

“Come,” Marianne said, holding her hand out towards Héloïse. 

Héloïse moved to her knees and took Marianne’s hand as she began to shuffle up the bed. She didn’t know exactly where to go, at first, but judging by Marianne’s motions, she followed her cues and settled in the woman’s lap. She had one knee on either side of Marianne’s lap and was leaned back onto her heels.

Marianne let one hand slip to the small of Héloïse’s back, to hold her where she was. Héloïse wasn’t certain what to do with her hands and she was mostly focused on not losing her balance and tumbling in any random direction.

Marianne watched her with a soft smile, almost laughing as she tried to help keep her upright. Héloïse was quick to join her in laughter.

Marianne laughed into Héloïse’s collarbone, once the blonde was better situated, and allowed her second hand to drift lower and cup Héloïse’s ass.

Marianne’s lips moved across Héloïse’s collarbone and downwards, placing large, wet kisses as she went, sucking at the skin of her chest. She decided against teasing Héloïse further and upon reaching her breasts, she immediately took one of Héloïse’s nipples into her mouth and sucked at it. 

Héloïse had one hand pressed firmly into Marianne’s back, keeping her grip tight as a way to avoid any awkward tumbling. Her other hand was in the woman’s hair, lost in a sea of brown locks. Her fingers ran unconscious patterns along Marianne’s back while her head tilted backwards.

The hand that Marianne was keeping on Héloïse’s back moved to grip her hip and not long afterwards, it slipped down between their bodies and between Héloïse’s legs. She didn’t even need to touch her to know that she was wet. Marianne could swear that she could feel Héloïse nearly dripping in anticipation.

When Marianne slowly ran her finger along Héloïse’s folds, a strangled gasp left Héloïse’s lips and she couldn’t help herself from falling forward, slightly, her forehead now against the top of Marianne’s head.

Marianne released Héloïse’s nipple from her mouth and continued to tease Héloïse. Slow and soft touches, barely even there. 

Héloïse was impatient though, she would grind her hips downwards against Marianne’s hand and little jolts rushed through her body every time that her clit was grazed.

“Please…” She sighed into Marianne’s hair. And finally, Marianne gave in.

Marianne’s index finger gently slid against Héloïse’s entrance before slowly slipping inside of her. 

A huff of breath left Héloïse’s lips and her head tilted back, allowing Marianne to press her lips against the base of Héloïse’s neck, sucking and nipping at the soft flesh. 

Marianne started slow, though it didn’t take long for her to increase the speed that she pumped her finger in and out of Héloïse. Héloïse rolled her hips against Marianne’s hand, trying to receive as much pleasure as she possibly could.

“More,” she begged, but was cut off by a strangled sound in her throat, caused by her clit grazing Marianne’s wrist.

And Marianne listened, happily. The next moment she pumped her finger into Héloïse, she added a second digit. Héloïse moaned, again.

“You’re so wet…” Marianne mumbled in a deep voice, into Héloïse’s chest. It was an observation that didn’t need to be shared, both women were extremely aware of the fact, but the adoration in Marianne’s voice only pushed Héloïse closer to the edge. 

Marianne’s fingers continued to pump in and out of Héloïse and Héloïse rolled her hips in unison, effectively fucking herself with the woman’s hand. 

Héloïse’s moans were becoming more frequent, flowing into one another and drowning Marianne’s ears. 

The two sped up and it didn’t take long, at this increased speed, for Héloïse to become wildly overwhelmed. 

Finally, as Héloïse ground her hips down and her clit was rubbed by the brunette’s wrist, along with the feeling of Marianne’s lips against her chest, Héloïse couldn’t contain herself.

She let out a small yelp followed by an extended moan, and then let her body fall into Marianne’s. Her forehead returned to its place against Marianne’s head and her grip on Marianne’s hair and back tightened.

She continued to gasp, gently, while Marianne slowly moved her fingers in and out of her, before fully removing them. 

They stayed like that for a minute or two before Marianne moved her hand to cup Héloïse’s other ass cheek, and Héloïse could feel her own cum against her ass, on Marianne’s fingers. 

She pulled back from Marianne’s head and barely looked at her before locking their lips once again. Marianne squeezed her ass for a second, while they kissed, before their kiss became lazy and tired.

When their lips separated, their foreheads stayed connected. 

It was silent for another thirty seconds before Marianne spoke.

“I might’ve left a mark.” She whispered. 

Héloïse could feel Marianne’s breath against her lips and despite the euphoria she had just experienced at the hands of the woman, she let out a loud and obnoxious groan. 

She rolled off of Marianne’s lap and laid on her back, next to Marianne, in the bed with her hand covering her eyes.

“I knew I hated you,” she mumbled.

It made Marianne cackle.


End file.
